Seven Days
by HarlequinPhase
Summary: It's Christmas in New York and Kurt is alone. Blaine, a successful business man, finds him buried within a flourish of haunting memories and begs him for 7 days-NYE-to prove he's the man Kurt has wished for. Klaine/Faberry/Niff
1. The Pact

_Christmas in New York is always magical. Kurt is alone on Christmas Eve with a flourish of old memories haunting him when Blaine, a successful business man, finds him and begs for 7 days (New Years Eve being the deadline) to prove he's the man Kurt has been wishing for. Klaine. Faberry. Might be M in later chapters.  
><em>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. **

**A/N: A new story I hope you'll enjoy featuring Faberry, Niff, and of course Klaine. I might join some other ships as well depending on how they fit to the plot. I hope you enjoy it. **

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><p>Kurt stood watching the 30,000 lights on the Rockefeller Centre Christmas tree. This was his second year in New York, and first time alone on Christmas.<p>

The seasonable Christmas Eve spirit didn't dawn on him this year. There was no upset to the rhythmic beating of his heart, no butterflies swirling in his stomach. He didn't even have a Christmas tree in his dingy, bad neighbourhood apartment. Kurt grimaced. Thoughts of returning to its depressing atmosphere sent feelings of nausea to his already burning eyes.

In contrast to his dire thoughts, the centre was filled with boisterous and excited people. The middle aged lady next to him was proceeding to procure some sort of order in her two youngins who seemed to be dancing about as if they were on fire. In front of them an old couple clasped hands in joint celebration, the old man bending down to Eskimo kiss the woman – sending her into a fit of giggles, face crimson.

With a sigh, Kurt moved through the crowd eyes downcast. The joyful faces taunted him, lulling him into a false sense of comfort that would be soon disbanded by his lonesome dwelling. Soon, his eyes glazed in memory.

_The Christmas tree was lit with a myriad of dazzling colours. Designed of course by Kurt himself, the family admired it's beauty with hands linked. After a moment of silence Kurt's mother, Elizabeth, procured a row of Christmas cookies laced with her own famous icing. Kurt, at mere age of 5, gobbled one down with haste before noting he couldn't have anymore or they'd upset his figure. The happy family chimed in mirth, pulling together on the couch to watch the snow fall slowly on the festively decorated lawn._

_Kurt clucked his tongue as he curled up into his mother. His dad began to stoke the fire which stroked their bodies in a comforting and warm gesture. It was Christmas time at the Hummel's house, the greatest time of year._

A cold falling snowflake landing on uncovered neck awoke Kurt from his memories. He shivered violently, moving through the crowd now with a dignified haste.

That's what Kurt had now. His quiet dignity. Though he worked countless shifts at establishments such as bars and cafes, not to mention cameos at the GERSHWIN THEATRE, Kurt kept his quiet decorum he had learnt from being a bullied homosexual in high school.

Long gone was the diva attitude, the sassy outbursts, the astute confidence. It hid within him with years of withheld emotion. He was better liked when he was no longer himself. The boys at the bars and clubs sensed an innocence , a virtue, from his built persona. To be outspoken, he only attracted the worst of people.

Like Karofsky.

David Karofsky, the boy that took his first kiss. That same boy that grew to be the man that stole his inner passion as well.

Kurt shook himself from his thoughts. He was lucky, he had been told. At least it was only a kiss... They didn't understand. His first kiss, the epitome of romance, taken by a thug that later caused such deep bruises that his skin had never truly been able to heal.

iPod in, world off. Kurt distanced himself from the memories, playing the latest tunes that distracted him from reality. The latest was Paradise Circus by Massive Attack.

_Love is like a sin, my love. For the ones that feel it the most. Look at her with her eyes like a flame; she will love you like a fly will never love you again._

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><p>Kurt Hummel entered the XES Lounge like a frequent visitor. After all, that's what he was.<p>

The security guard, stage named Buzz, welcomed his presence by granting him free entry. After a small smile and stream of thanks, Kurt entered the lounge alone. Looking at the bartender as he took his seat, signalling with a simple wave 'the usual'.

The lounge was filled to the brim. Loud voices echoed throughout the room in a persistent tremor. Glasses protested suddenly against constant slamming, the symbol of drunken occupants. Kurt smiled with the small of his mouth. It was different here, being surrounded by his people – a small sense of family. Harvey the bartender came with his drink – a dirty martini.

"Here on Christmas Eve, Kurt.' He sighed exasperatedly. "Are you sure you aren't a handsome version of Santa coming to bring me yourself as an item on my wish list?" Winking flirtatiously, Harvey resumed pouring a beer for Kurt's nearest company.

"I live to please, Harvey." Kurt murmured timidly as he reached deep into his past for a source of witty banter.

The lounge continued its comforting hum as common occupants waved to Harvey and Kurt. Reaching full capacity, the bartenders around Harvey began to work furiously to compete with the insurgence of customers. With the familiarity came a sense of comfort to Kurt, who stirred his drink as his restless memories began to calm.

Without warning, the facade was broken by a new visitor on the stool beside him. Kurt trained his eyes only on his glass, praying to no god that the man would ignore his presence. He didn't want to be someone's toy tonight.

Not with these unrelenting memories threatening to take him over.

The man's voice was mirthful and laced in honey. In a polite conveyance, the man ordered a round of drinks for an animated table near the fire place. He engaged in Harvey's witty banter without any seeming discomfort, though Kurt was sure he would have recognised such a voice.

It set his skin on fire. Goosebumps spreading on his skin. His spine trembling.

Any attempt to sink back into his own thoughts, ignoring the man, seemed improbable so Kurt sneaked a careful glance at his new neighbour. His pea coat was a modest black though obviously expensive. The scarf, also obviously expensive, was a mixture of reds and greys that was an even split to the darkness of the man's hair. Gelled to an inch of its life, the hidden curls of the man seemed to reach out to Kurt – a secret infatuation of his. His hair was almost ebony in colour and attracted attention to his tanned skin, but no matter how lovely, it was his eyes that entranced Kurt to the centre of his being. Honey onyx in colour, they were laced with an almost yellow glow that felt familiar despite never meeting this man.

Kurt thinks he can taste something similar to saccharine on his tongue just from looking at the nameless man. He watched something glimmer and his pupils, just maybe, widen a little.

It was only after this final observation that Kurt realised the man was returning his stare.

Blushing, Kurt returned his eyes to his glass, attempting to break himself from this new and improved daydream. The man, however, had other plans. His constant gaze unnerved Kurt, not even his nightly companions stared at him with such intensity.

Harvey returned to the pair with the group's drinks, breaking the man's stare. With an easy smile that Kurt could hear through the man's words of thanks, a more than charitable tip was passed to Harvey before his presence was lost.

Another come and gone. He could never live to their expectations.

Especially when they surpassed his.

* * *

><p>Blaine sauntered through the lounge with learned authority. Despite the tray of drinks in his hands hindering his ability to swagger, Blaine was always an image of influence.<p>

Rejoining his group and passing the drinks to his friends, a certain image of a certain man flickered through his mind. His body set in a rigid posture, his eyes downcast in a submissive gesture... Blaine's mind was now occupied in wonder.

The sea blue eyes had burned an image on his eyelids.

Wes called his attention with a sniggering comment. Blaine didn't hear it, but knew it's general direction.

"No Wesley, I will not share." He returned evenly.

"But Blainey..." Wes whinged, adopting a hideous re-enactment of a blubbering child.  
>Blaine laughed in obvious good humour as the conversation returned to some sort of order.<p>

"As I was saying," Rachel added, obviously petulant at being interrupted. "I seriously believe that progressing the music department by letting in musical genres will expand the company even more. Warbler enterprises gets its influence from having such a vast amount of smaller companies – it's music, airlines, clothes, banking lines and more are what make us unique. If we expand within those groupings, we're solidifying our impact."

The group nodded in agreement before turning to Blaine, the owner of the company, in a hope filled gesture.

"Are you proposing we expand the company to including musical theatre like we began flying overseas instead of being a nation-wide airline?" Blaine replied, deep in thought.

Rachel seemed enthused with the obvious positive perspective that Blaine was giving her. "Yes sir." She replied, grinning widely.

"And this has nothing to do with your obvious obsession with musical theatre, and your past within it?"

Blaine turned a steady gaze on her, surveying her with a business standpoint. Rachel seemed disgruntled, not used to being caught out on her scheming. She seemed to attempt to configure a coherent reply and Blaine soon returned to his carefree demeanour to calm her nerves.

"Let me think on it," He replied with added mirth. "It's Christmas Eve and I plan on getting away from work for a while. You've got my cell if you need me."

Without another glance, Blaine stood and arranged his scarf on his return to the bar.

He had a certain blue eyes to charm.

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><p>Kurt was drowning in the bleak atmosphere. Flashes of honey onyx began to sear through his nervous system, causing him to flinch as if it burned him. Making only polite small talk with Harvey, Kurt readied himself to leave. Digging in his satchel, (It's not a purse, and even if it was – Fashion has no gender) Kurt made to pay for his martini as he moved to leave.<p>

A hand shot across him and stopped him mid movement.

"Now now blue eyes, you can't possibly leave so early on Christmas Eve." The man's honey eyes seemed to gloss over Kurt's entire body, leaving him trembling. In a split second, Kurt found his inner sass.

"Hobbit, I understand you have height difficulties and I've always been taught to be pleasant to the disabled – but my eyes cannot be simply identified as a simple 'blue''.

The man looked disgruntled. "You're right. They could be almost green..." He looked lost in thought. "Besides, I'll have a lot more time to ponder my faux pass as you sit with me for another drink." Taking a seat next to his half empty one, the man gestured for Kurt to join him.

Kurt flushed an unnatural shade of red and glanced contemplatively at his shoes. They were red for the festive season yet of course in perfect coordination with the season. Due to the lack in reply, the man pursued a tactical attack. "Christmas on your own this year?"

Kurt nodded, momentarily glancing up at his latest suitor. The man looked taken back for a minute. "Someone with eyes like the ocean, both green and blue, shouldn't be alone at any time of year." The man replied earnestly, though Kurt flinched.

Packing his bag – satchel – up once again, Kurt moved to place payment and a tip for his drink on the bar and started towards the exit. "I'm sorry; I'm no one's latest toy." Not again, he whispered mentally.

The man was up in a blink of an eye, eyes wide with surprise. What was it about this boy that made him want to honestly try? Usually the smallest effort gained him a night of anything he'd ask for.

Grabbing his arm with haste, though gentle, the man spoke with a less dignified voice – more similar to a kicked puppy after being too excitable. "Toy? No." He shook his head in sincerity. "You're right. I'm being rude. Let's start over. I'm Blaine, Blaine Anderson. And I'd like you to invite you to my table of friends over there for a night of karaoke and frivolity. Please? No one should be alone on Christmas." Kurt was right about Blaine looking like a puppy. His honey onyx eyes widened, setting his dark eye lashes in a contrast that made his heart hurt. Losing all ability to breathe, Kurt nodded, instantly berating himself for being so weak.

The look of glee on Blaine's face was unmistakable. Blaine, or the puppy as Kurt mentally named him, laced his fingers through Kurt's and dragged him to the table.

:. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :. :.

Bored, the group looked up at Blaine's new soon- to-be conquest, only to be startled. The boy didn't look to be all that enamoured with the billionaire. He actually seemed rather... irate. A challenge for THE Blaine Anderson?

"Kurt, I'd like you to meet my friends. From the left, Wesley, David, Quinn, Rachel and Nick." Each member looked like odd company for the next. First there was Wesley or Wes as he soon reprimanded. He was of an Asian background, clearly confident with a brazen attitude that seemed as cunning as a snake yet as playful as sugar high child. David looked as if he was glued to his phone, clearly talking to some form of lady friend and was more submissive as well as astute with a well spoken tongue and clean cut tailored attire. Then there was Quinn, who had a hair so pink it was almost a fashion item. Though slouching in the chair as nothing fazed her, she had this unspoken dignity that signified effort to disband a stiff posture. Nick looked subdued, reminding Kurt of Blaine after he refused him. Rachel looked like one of the demanding folk down at the theatre – which he was soon proven right as soon as she spoke.

"Kurt... Hummel right? You're on Broadway sometimes, usually on the DIRECTORS choice. That's pretty amazing. I mean, sure you're not as famous as me. You have to be born a star rather than lucky, but still. I bet you're a good performer. If we performed together I'd make you more than mediocre. What do you say? Karaoke partner?" All of this was said in mere seconds, and Kurt's eyes fluttered in obvious agitation. Blaine laughed, knowing her antics, and used their still interwoven fingers to drag Kurt to the microphones. "Not a chance Miss Berry. This boy is mine." 

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><p>"Anything? You sure? There's a few Christmas songs out there..." Blaine trailed off as he flicked through the given Christmas songs that they could sing. Kurt, though back to his submissive self in appearance, inwardly smirked. The man had no idea what he was in for.<p>

"Anything. If I can't sing it, we'll soon find out." As if.

Blaine smirked as he signalled for the band member and whispered his song choice. The song erupted through the busy club.

_Oh the weather outside is frightful,__  
><em>_but the fire is so delightful,__  
><em>_and since we've no place to go,__  
><em>_let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!_

Blaine gestured to Kurt, and not long after his jaw was searching eagerly for the ground. Kurt's voice was as soft and perfect as an angel. My god he had to have him.

The song continued, both dancing in time in seamless perfection despite no practice. By the end of it, the club had erupted into a dizzying outburst of applause that had even Rachel on her feet. Kurt bowed to the lounge first as they called out his name – already knowing his majestic voice, then once to Blaine – smirking as he did.

Blaine led them back to the table and began to shower him in complements. "Really Kurt. You'd be perfect for Rachel's new branch within the music industry of Warbler Enterprises. I can imagine your desk in a sky rise now." Leaning over to whisper the last in his ear, Blaine began to caress Kurt's leg. Uncomfortable, Kurt shuffled closer to a mentally absent Nick. As Blaine began to move too close for comfort, Kurt pushed his hands away. "What Kurt, baby, don't you want that pretty office in the city?" Wes called from the other side of the table, obviously enjoying the performance. Realising his position, Kurt stood abruptly, missing Blaine's glare to the Asian boy. "I -," He stopped, regaining his dignity that lay shattered on the floor. "I am not anyone's toy, MR Anderson. Not even for a pretty office. If I was cheap, I'd be the head of the silly Warbler Enterprises by now." Kurt missed the comical glance between David and Quinn at that comment. "Thanks for the drink, I'll be going now." Kurt slammed his drink back on the table with a resounding clash.

They were all the same. Kurt told himself, pushing himself towards the door as fast as he could - leaving a shocked Blaine gaping up at him. 

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><p>"KURT WAIT!" Blaine was running after him, coat swishing in the cold New York air. "Kurt please, I can't just never see you again. I'm not... I'm not like that – I, I. Wes likes to make his jokes because I don't get out a lot... I just..." He was making wild gestures with his hands as if to grab the words that where escaping him. Noticing, he moved his fingers through his hair that was running loose from his plight. "There's 7 days until New Years Eve. Let me prove it to you. 7 days, that's all I ask."<p>

After seeing that same earnest look that drew Kurt to the man, Kurt glanced up at the sky. The lounge's clock ticked over to 12:01 sending the lounge into a series of cheering and kisses. It was officially Christmas. Maybe this was the Christmas spirit giving him a wish. 7 days...

Kurt walked up to the slightly fevered man who blanched as if waiting for some form of assault. After placing a neat and timid kiss on his cheek, Kurt nodded.

"You're on, Anderson. But remember, I am NOT your whore. I don't care who you work for!" Still unsure, yet hope-filled, Kurt continued his way to the waiting taxi – not giving a second glance to the happy puppy Blaine.

Until he was safely hidden by the taxi's tinted windows of course.

**A/N: Let me know if you'd like me to continue this story!**


	2. Day One

**A/N: Hi ladies and gents. I've decided to continue this attempt of Klaine. 8-) In this chapter I've noted the classic by F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby which is a great book I recommend to readers out there. I've also mentioned Breakfast at Tiffany's, another one of my favourite classics. I've got a fair bit planned out for this story but if anyone has any suggestions I'd love to hear them in the review section.**  
><strong><br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and do not intend any copyright infringements.**

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><p><em>Day One of The Pact<em>

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><p>Kurt's thoughts flittered restlessly in his slumber. The cold air from the open window seemed to taunt him even in his dreams.<em> Like a man with a voice of honey– sultry in an almost indecent manner, eyes of liquid amber, would wish for you! <em>

In his memory, eyes flashed. A glowing ember grew in his chest. Dark lashes framing gold. A voice like honey slithering over his impassioned skin. The earnest glance of a seeming earnest man. The warmth built from the memory seemed to chase back the cold of the winter. Kurt nestled back into a deep slumber. 7 days. Smiling, he fell back to sleep.

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><p>Blaine sat comfortably in his well worn office chair. Over the years, though in poor number due to his young age, he had worn this office as if it were a home. There were signed balls from the Buckeyes, certificates from abundant charities and numerous Broadway pictures lined the walls in signed memorabilia of times well spent. His favourite was from a production of STARKID. Smiling, he reminded himself to call some of the cast members that night to wish them a Merry Christmas. They had remained close friends after all.<p>

But none of this could distract him from thinking of a certain man he'd met last night. Kurt Hummel. The name brought that ever present warmth to his throat. God, it was like he was still in middle school! Muttering to himself, Blaine was perplexed at himself. It had been years since he felt anything but lust towards another man. One night stands? Sure. His pay check allowed for the best of suitors – not that it had anything to do with paying them. He was a man of appreciation. Frequently being present on the list of hottest bachelors was a plus he was suitably grateful for.

But, Kurt Hummel. Blaine, a notorious bachelor found it unreasonable to stay with a man longer than a night – and yet... 7 days. He had seven days to prove to this countertenor that he was more than the rumours.

That was another thing; could Blaine even honestly think Kurt hadn't heard about his past? Surely, it was in all the papers... But he didn't seem to recognise him. He saw a player behind Blaine's eyes, sure. But everyone did. He even went as far to say he was EMPLOYED. By himself maybe... Blaine sunk into the office chair and began to slowly seep into his memories. Those eyes stung. They were both blue and green, rather than a mixture like an aqua or turquoise. It was as if two colours had battled violently to take control and neither won. Blaine settled himself with the thoughts that he'd be able to study them more closely soon.

Sighing, Blaine picked up the latest in android phones and went to dial the number of his affections. But wait. Blaine scrolled expertly through his contact list. Directors, famous musicians, actors... But no Kurt Hummel. Scowling, he pressed a single button on the intercom and demanded his secretary's assistance.

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><p>Moving languidly through his morning routine Kurt sighed openly. His cold apartment, though an item of his and many others in New York's affections, was cold and dreary. He'd let himself have a tiny Christmas tree he named Daisy in symbolic note to an item of his idolisation let down by reality. He really needed to stop reading the depressing classics of F. Scott Fitzgerald.<p>

First he showered, washing all evidence of his fitful slumber down the sewer. Then he progressed into his skin routine and later hair. Just as he picked the perfect outfit of a long black coat covering a brightly coloured button up and tight-as-skin grey jeans, the door bell rang.

Kurt sighed heavily. After attempting his best bitch face and losing, he realised he'd have to deal with helping his old senile neighbour carry all her –too many- grand kids presents to her car.  
>Ready to slam the door at any second, though he knew that kind of fight had left him over the years, Kurt finally let the Christmas cold air through the front door.<p>

Where Blaine Anderson now stood.

Kurt was stunned. Someone could have kicked him in the face with the latest season Jimmy Choos heels that no one could even get their hands on and he'd still be less shocked than he was now. Blaine Anderson, with a Cheshire cat smile that both unnerved and thrilled him.

Silence stilled between them for a minute as Kurt tried to remember his 'not a toy' policy and Blaine looked like an overgrown puppy being given said toy.

"I looked everywhere for you. It's almost indecent to assure me we'd be spending the next 7 days together and not even leave me your number. Do you know how many Kurt Hummel's there are in this city? Enough!" The words were misconstrued with the speed their owner was coughing them out. Kurt's head was spinning.

"-I, I... What?"

Blaine was wearing a red suit. Red. He wore a simple white button up underneath, yet with a red vest that hugged him closely. Unsurprising to his kindred spirit attitude, he still rocked street shoes on his feet, and stood comfortably in the obviously expensive red velvet.

"Come on beautiful, where's that sassy diva I met last night?" Blaine grinned triumphantly, letting himself in to Kurt's abode. "So since I have 7 days to appreciate everything Kurt Hummel, why don't you show me through your place? It looks utterly marvellous!"

* * *

><p>It had been 15 minutes of Blaine shuffling around the apartment in his over grown puppy mannerisms and yet Kurt was still flabbergasted.<p>

"Blaine, not that I'm not remarkably... enthused that you are here, but don't you have Christmas with your family?"

Blaine looked down at his shoes for a minute, losing his thoughts midway between rambling about how beautiful the monochromatic apartment scheme was and how nicely Kurt's hair would be laid against those white sheets.

"How silly of me. I was so excited to get here I didn't even consider that you'd already have plans! I'll just..." Moving to the door, Blaine's face dropped from its thousand watt light bulb intensity.

Kurt hurried to catch his arm, throwing himself off balance by the feeling of small fires lining his skin at the simple touch. Removing his hand, Kurt attempted a strong smile.

"No family plans, Anderson. They are way back in Lima, Ohio. Just me this Christmas. I was thinking more about YOUR family plans."

Blaine's Cheshire grin doubled in brightness.

"Why, Hummel," Was it just Kurt or did that grin turn into a smirk when Kurt returned to his diva self? "How nice of you to ask! However, I will indeed be seeing my family today and you will be joining me!"

Kurt blanched. Instantly dead panning, he gasped, "Isn't it a bit soon for me to be meeting your family?"

As if Blaine's grin could be brighter.

"Well pretty eyes, I'm taking that as a positive as you are admitting that there may be a time you will actually be meeting them." Winking, Blaine took his hand and led him out the door and into a waiting car.

"For the record, you are joining me for a very different kind of family gathering at my very own house." Kurt went to tug his clothes, obviously questioning the logistics of such a 'family gathering. "Before you ask, yes you're perfectly dressed. Almost indecently so. No one should be able to fit into jeans that tight. A teenage dream."

Smirking yet again, Blaine took a blushing Kurt's hand and began their 7 day adventure.

* * *

><p>The car ride was a hum of infectious chatter. Blaine mused over Kurt's interests as if they were pure gold. As it was now, Kurt was telling of his countertenor joys of Glee club back in Ohio.<p>

'We won Nationals in our last year. It was one of those experiences you know? One in a life time? I mean, obviously I'll never be in high school again – but that feeling of winning? I had a solo, and I was singing this song that I wrote about being bullied for being gay..." Blaine looked at him vexedly for a minute, silently letting Kurt know this conversation was far from over. "Anyway, it was just this feeling. That burning sensation in your chest, that glow in your cheeks. I probably looked better that day than any of the days I'd perfected my morning facial routine."

Kurt gazed into the New York traffic as he was drifted into the memory just by the sights. They passed Central Park and he smiled fondly, thinking of the groups singing numbers as they danced around in it.

Meanwhile, Blaine was struggling with himself. Kurt. Gorgeous Kurt, was sitting next to him, only barely not touching his leg to his own. Those skin tight jeans showing the best of his shapely and toned thighs – not to mention other things. But it wasn't just this that had Blaine fighting his unbridled emotions. It was another type of feeling. It built from the tips of his fingers that had accidently brushed Kurt's earlier and progressed in cascades throughout his body. He felt as if his body was humming with energy for the first time in his subdued life. He felt himself coming out of his skin. _Kurt. What are you doing to me?_

Kurt broke himself from his thoughts, looking to Blaine with eyes sparkling. "So Anderson, where are you taking me? If this is some weird Beauty & the Beast fetish..."

Blaine smirked, silently ecstatic that Kurt liked Disney. _There's my diva. _"Are you implying I'm a beast? I shaved on a Sunday for this, See!" Blaine took Kurt's hand and brought it to his face, feeling him tremble slightly as their skin collided. Kurt rubbed his cheek tenderly, gently laying an innocent kiss on Blaine's nose.

"The beast was just a big softy on the inside. I get the feeling, despite your womanising ways, or should I say manising, you're just an overgrown puppy."

Blaine blanched before a giant smile grew across his face. This was what he had hoped for.  
>"And if I was?" He asked, taking Kurt's hand, still brushing his cheek and bringing it to his lips.<p>

"Well, I'd say I'm going to have an amazing week."

* * *

><p>The town car pulled up to a large building that looked almost jazz age classic. Almost like Breakfast at Tiffany's, and Kurt felt as if he were Holly in a world with her gorgeous Fred on a brand new adventure. Blaine took Kurt's hand and led him into the building, waving off the security guards with labels of 'Warbler Enterprise'.<p>

Kurt looked at Blaine with a puzzled expression. 'Blaine, I understand you're all for working – I mean, guessing from your red outfit over there I would say you get a fair bit of income – but work on Christmas? Seriously? Your boss must be a slave driver."

Blaine looked at Kurt easily, deciding lying to him any further would be detrimental.  
>"Kurt, I don't have a boss."<p>

Kurt mused to himself quietly, "Oh yes, such a bad boy. No one can tell him what to do!"

Blaine smiled, pausing at the elevators. Getting in and pulling on Kurt's hand, he wrapped his arms around the slender boy and lined his nose with kisses.

"Kurt, tell me who owns Warbler Enterprises?" Dazed, by the kisses, Kurt's mind blanked. Blaine continued. "What about runs it?" Blaine progressed his kisses to Kurt's cheek and jaw. The elevator dinged as each floor moved past. They were heading to the top floor. "I-" Kurt keened into Blaine's touch, easily forgetting their placement and all his self promises. As Blaine moved to bite his neck, sucking on the tender spot that made Kurt whimper in anticipation. The doors finally opened.  
>The voice of the elevator spoke clearly through, announcing their location.<p>

"Level 99. Office of Blaine Anderson, director and owner of Warbler Enterprises."

Kurt stood stoically until Blaine pulled him gently into the office. It was wide and open, decorated only by a handful of personal possessions. The walls were simply glass windows coming to a point. The glass prism allowed Kurt to see deep into the city as well as the sky, overlooking Central Park. At the centre of the room however, stood a gorgeous looking Latino woman who was waiting with a 'bitch face'.

"Getting your wanky on in the elevator _Mr._Anderson? You oughta, that boy be fine." She dragged out the last, her eyes raking across Kurt in emphasis. "You gots to get up on dat ass." With that cheerful message, she clasped her arms around Kurt in a cheerful hug. "You know, with that blush that is all around your face, I think I'm going to like you." She turned to Blaine, who was interchanging his attention from his secretary to the blushing boy. "Lunch will be ready soonish. Most of them are already down there, but I'm sure they'll be okay if you're a little late." Finishing, she turned after a rather lustfully enhanced wink and entered the elevator. As the doors shut, Blaine moved Kurt by wrapping his arm around his waist and dragged him across the room.

"So this is my personal collection of musical memorabilia, from our talk in the car I would suggest that this would make you happy to see them." Blaine smiled as Kurt's face showed some light after such a surprise. Kurt's fingers were running across the shelves as if he were handling the most fragile and precious jewels. Blaine continued his tour of his office and placed Kurt into his office chair, taking a seat on the desk in front of him

"I'd believe that you have some questions." It was a statement.

"You," Kurt stopped, having to lick his lips before he started again. "You OWN Warbler Enterprises? Of course you do, you're Blaine fucking Anderson. How could I be so stupid!"

Kurt seemed to be panicking, so Blaine gently massaged his hands, pausing occasionally to kiss his fingers.

"I mean, the suit, the reserved table at the lounge. Hell, the fact your card was black and you had your own tab built just on sight!"

Blaine paused, waiting for the ultimate rejection. His life was too hard for a significant other. He was too busy, the paparazzi were too vigilant. Kurt would leave, just like the others.

But that wasn't the look in Kurt's eyes. It was wonder. "I'm almost flattered it was me you chose out of all those guys. You could have anyone, and you chose me. Why?"

Blaine looked on in equally matched wonder. "You don't see yourself clearly." He kissed Kurt's lips softly. "You're beautiful." He ran his fingers down Kurt's sides, rubbing the fabric until he could scarcely feel the toned skin under many layers. "You're sassy, even behind this submissive front." He kissed Kurt's shoulder blades as his fingers ran up to his back, one hand tickling his spine as the other ran up to brush the nape of his neck. "You're a picture of perfection. I only hope that you can look past this nonsense, the business of my career and both the rumours and truth of my... past, to see that I might be someone worth having you."

Kurt sat still for a moment, Blaine still straddling his lap and looking into his face as if he were something rare and beautiful. Without a second thought, Kurt lowered his head and brought Blaine into a passionate and temperate kiss.

Blaine leaned into the kiss as they fought each other for dominance. Biting Kurt's lip, Blaine moaned at the feeling of Kurt beneath him. His warm skin caused him to feel almost feverous, making his kisses more pronounced as he slipped his tongue inside Kurt's mouth and felt for the back of his teeth. Kurt conceded to defeat easily, thoroughly enjoying the kiss as Blaine could tell from his occasional moans and whimpers.

Suddenly, the intercom brought the two apart, obviously dazed from their lusts.

"There's only so many minutes I can keep these guys entertained whilst you guys get your mack on. Get your asses down here." The two straightened their clothes, each taking the time to caress the other where they could.

With a small kiss on the lips and some timid yet joyful smiles, the two left to join the lunch party.

* * *

><p>The lunch was boisterous. Quinn and Rachel had hands joined and narrowly avoided casual taunts from Santana over their long relationship. Blaine explained from his place next to Kurt that they had been dating since the end of high school, finally realising their affections soon after they entered their senior year in an all girls school near Dalton. Santana had also been at their school, and whilst the girls were bisexual and she was a lesbian, she was without a partner due to a bad break up near the same time. Santana had taken to the snarky comments soon after, her heart turned bitter after Brittany left her for a man twice her age. Kurt had learnt that Rachel ran Warbler Studios whilst Quinn ran the banking side with credit cards etc.<p>

David and Wes, sitting on Kurt's left were lesser partner's of the enterprises. Wes acted as CEO for the majority of the time, and usually kept the others in order. David was head of press management, which also explained his security guard position. Blaine assured him that though their relationship was close to being homoerotic, they remained simply friends. Wes had numerous girlfriends, whilst David was in a longterm committed relationship with a woman named Katie. This didn't stop the crew from calling them 'Wevid'

"So Kurt, if you don't mind me asking, you're on Broadway aren't you?" David asked, obviously calm despite the crazy environment.

"Yeah, I've done a few shows." Kurt added, slowly turning back into the blushing bride.

"He's just being modest. Kurt here has done numerous Broadway shows at THE Broadway theatre for productions such as Wicked, Westside Story, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying..." Blaine mused, obviously proud.

"Gee. And here I was worrying you'd be stealing our Blainey's money." Wes added in a joking voice, yet it also carried an undercurrent as if he was truly concerned. Kurt blanched, obviously caught by surprise with a thought that never crossed his mind. Blaine hurried to glare at his old friend, but Kurt stopped him.

"Not to worry Blaine, it's good you have friends that care about you. But no, I do quite well for myself thank you." Kurt smiled at Wes, obviously making him feel uncomfortable in his accusations.

Kurt met Nick and Jeff, both obviously head over heels in love with each other. The problem? Neither of them realised it, rather seeing their best friend status as a restriction. Kurt noted this for a later date, match maker Kurt in action. They ran the IT department.

By the time lunch was done, Kurt had hat hair from the Christmas hats, pink cheeks from smiling, and a full tummy. He'd met the team and Blaine had gotten him back in the car to take him home.

When they arrived, Blaine stood uncertain before laying a gentle kiss on Kurt's lips. He didn't want to push the boy away, and a passionate kiss would hint to him wanting something far too soon. Kurt took manners into his own hands when he guessed the item of his affection's uncertainty. Drawing Blaine closer, they engaged in yet another steamy kiss before they stood contentedly in each other's arms.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Kurt asked, tentative for the first time since the awkwardness at lunch.

"Of course." Blaine answered, moving down the stairs and into his car. Winding the window down, he called out to Kurt as the car started moving.

"Make sure you wear some of those damn tight jeans again." He winked, signalling his jest – whilst he also secretly meant it. _Masochist_, he thought to himself.

Kurt smiled widely before blowing a kiss and hurrying back into his apartment to call his girl Mercedes.

**A/N: So I think I'll be writing more of this little story. The next few chapters might be shorter or longer seeming as I'm going away until New Years. I'll hopefully have another chapter up before then. Thank you for reading!**

x


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